


What's Mine Is Yours

by KristinaMarie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 22:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11792352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KristinaMarie/pseuds/KristinaMarie
Summary: Rey succeeded in bringing Kylo Ren to the light and, subsequently, to the Resistance.  At first, Rey expected the less-than-warm welcoming of the man she'd come to care for... What she didn't expect was for their distrust to shift to something else.  Something that threatens what's hers.





	What's Mine Is Yours

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Note:** One-shot. Don't worry folks - Kylo only has eyes for Rey in this story, and vice versa. Inspired by Linkin Park's "Faint."

 

 **What’s Mine Is Yours  
** by KristinaMarie

I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard  
Handful of complaints, but I can't help the fact that everyone can see these scars  
I am what I want you to want, what I want you to feel  
But it's like no matter what I do, I can't convince you, to just believe this is real  
  
I am a little bit insecure, a little unconfident  
'Cause you don't understand I do what I can but sometimes I don't make sense  
I am what you never wanna say, but I've never had a doubt  
It's like no matter what I do I can't convince you for once just to hear me out  
  
So I let go watching you, turn your back like you always do  
Face away and pretend that I'm not  
But I'll be here 'cause you're all that I've got

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo Ren never saw it, but Rey did.

How could he not see it?  From the very first day when he joined the Resistance, all eyes were on him.  At first, Rey was defensive for the suspicion and insecurity in those stares.  Every last person on the base that hadn’t played a part in bringing the infamous _Ben Solo_ home was leery of him – or rather, Kylo Ren, “Jedi Killer.”  In all honesty, Rey couldn’t blame them and empathized with their doubts at the time: she, after all, had once been in their shoes.  But she also glared back.  She’d been through enough in saving Kylo, and so had Luke, Leia, and the rest of her friends.  It was time to let the past be the past.  It was _time_ to focus on Kylo Ren being their best chance at securing a future – one that was devoid of Snoke and the First Order.

It didn’t take long for those stares to shift, and Rey _had_ been happy about it.  Keyword: had.  As Kylo pulled his weight around the strategy table, assisted Luke in training the new force sensitives rallied by the Resistance, and even lent his knowledge to the pilots and engineers, those stares changed from suspicion to awe.  Kylo was a wealth of knowledge and a significantly intimidating figure the Resistance could now count as ‘one of theirs.’  He was the answer to their hopes of winning.  Soon, much of the Resistance was able to tuck away the past and give way to appreciation.

Rey should have known that, for some, that appreciation would run much deeper _._

The first time she noticed such appreciation, Rey had been watching Kylo from afar in one of the hangars.  The Millennium Falcon needed a tune-up and she’d gladly assisted Chewbacca in doing just that.  Much too big for the hangar itself, the Falcon parked right outside.  Inside, Kylo was listening politely and intently to Poe Dameron who marveled over the TIE fighter Kylo commandeered from the First Order.  It was his, he assured them, and it was one of a kind, but Rey made sure to tease him for the vanity, nonetheless.  Poe had quickly shushed her, his eyes wide in admiration of the Silencer.  Rey wasn’t the least bit offended.  Anything that brought those two together – or at least made them cordial – was a miracle.

Excusing herself to assist Chewie, Rey couldn’t help but notice the crowd that drew around Kylo’s ship.  It hadn’t taken long, and when Poe finally gave Kylo the chance to answer his laundry list of questions, all eyes turned to him… and stayed there.  Long after he finished, those eyes continued to linger.  One woman – a fellow pilot and one Poe often spoke fondly of – even dared to touch Kylo’s arm.  _His arm._ As if that very arm hadn’t struck down their comrades…

Rey shook her head, disgusted with herself.  She wasn’t mad at Kylo, and she was surprised at herself… but something inside her had been stoked, and Rey began seeing it everywhere.  Eyes following him along the halls.  Whispers when they thought no one was listening to their gossip.  Excuses to ask Kylo questions here and there that seemed forced and out of place.  He was no longer the war criminal.  He was the _Chosen One_ , returned from the dark side to salvage the light and save the galaxy.  He was son to General Organa and a _prince_ – whether the title held merit or not.  And he was tall, dark, and mysterious.  A vision.  An _effigy._ The most alluring of conquests.

The last straw came after one of the usual briefings – the pilots were invited to attend, as it pertained to a potential air strike against a First Order satellite base.  Afterward when the meeting dismissed, that same female who’d touched his arm (Rey snorted just thinking about it), asked for a moment of Kylo’s time.   Rey made it a point to offer to finish up for Leia and dawdled at the holomap table, taking her time in closing out each schematic.

“You seem confident about their location,” the woman said, and out of the corner of her eye, Rey sneered at the way she so casually leaned against the doorframe across the room.  “Are you as confident about whom we might find there?”

“Your numbers will exceed theirs.  It is safe to say that your expertise will as well.”  Kylo’s answer was clipped.  Had Rey paid more attention to _him_ than to her accused competition, she would have seen the annoyance in his eyes for having been questioned. 

The woman chuckled demurely.  “You aren’t like them at all, are you.”   Rey gripped the table, her knuckles turning white, at the same moment as the girl touched his arm.  Again.  “You’re definitely not what _I_ expected.” 

Kylo curtly nodded and stepped back, gesturing his arm in an ‘after you’ motion through the door.  At a loss, or perhaps confused over her target’s lack of social skills, the woman sighed audibly and _finally_ exited the room.  By this time, Rey was shooting daggers in their direction, and the hussy’s insistence of swaying her hips had not gone unnoticed. 

“Good luck!” Rey called after her with a snort, and she wouldn’t admit to herself for what she was wishing her luck.  Because honestly, it wasn’t for the mission. 

“She will need it,” Kylo agreed long after the woman was out of sight.  He idly joined Rey at the map table, and Rey tried to ignore the way the concern on his face morphed into a small, adorable smile in her presence.  A smile he wore only for her, and not yet in the presence of anyone else.

“For what?  The air strike, or…”

The smile was gone in an instant, and Kylo was immediately confused.  “I don’t understand…”

“How much luck would she have with _you,_ Kylo Ren?”  Rey immediately regretted her words.  Although most people on the base still referred to him as his infamous alias – old habits die hard – Rey had taken to calling him Ben.  Rey liked it, Leia and Luke liked it, and most importantly, Ben liked it.  They’d discussed it late one night when neither could sleep.  They’d taken to lying in each other’s arms until the sun rose, whispering about the future to take their minds off the past.  He’d resigned to the fact that he could never truly bring ‘Ben Solo’ back from the dead.  Not after everything he’d done.  But if Rey wanted to call him that – if it meant she could look at him differently and leave _Kylo Ren_ behind – then he wanted it.  Desperately, he wanted it. 

And now, his expression was pained by the absence of the name.

Switching off the projector with an aggravated huff, Rey sat unceremoniously upon the ledge of the table.  It seemed that he wasn’t going to give her an answer, or perhaps he really _didn’t_ understand what she was getting at.  Suddenly, she couldn’t meet his gaze.  “You don’t see it, do you?  The way they look at you; especially _that_ one.”

Kylo was quiet for many moments, his expression thoughtful and devoid of humor.  He looked at her sternly and squared himself in front of her, crossing his arms.  “I do see it.”

Rey snapped to attention and her heart leapt into her throat.  “You…” she floundered for words, her cheeks hot from embarrassment.  He knew?  Did he entertain it?  She could just punch him right in the—

“I’ve always seen it,” he continued.  “I’ve been watched all my life – by more eyes than I can count.  I was trained to notice these things: to watch for those who are watching me, to anticipate them, and to never trust them.  Because what most people express is a dishonest front.  The same ones who watch me now would have killed me, had I not joined the Resistance.  Had _you_ not brought me to the light.”

Rey was blushing hard, now.  The way Kylo was looking at her made her feel as though she’d been stripped bare.  His eyes were steadfast with hers, probing into her in a way he never did with anyone else: like he couldn’t see them as he saw _her._ Her jealousy was getting the best of her – she knew it very well.  It was easy to let it take over when she looked at herself in the mirror.  The women on the base were one thing, but the women _out there_ … Rey had seen the most beautiful women, coifed and dressed to the nines and simply perfect in every way from their looks to their mannerisms.  They were the ambassadors, the upper class, and the royalty.  They were the pilots and the commoners who had never had to survive in a wasteland.  Rey could never be like them.  She would always be _Rey_ , the scavenger-turned-Gray Jedi who lived for adventure and couldn’t stay in one place – not anymore.  She was the girl who enjoyed running the wilds and working elbow-deep in a ship engine. 

But if Rey were honest with herself, Kylo always seemed to like how ragged she looked at the end of each day; how he would comb his fingers through her tangled hair and thumb at the scars that etched across her skin.  He didn’t seem to mind when she’d come home covered in grease from working with Poe, or in sweat from training with Luke – it always led to a shower together, where Kylo would take it upon himself to slowly and meticulously wash it all away. 

He seemed to read her thoughts.  He advanced, his proximity forcing her knees to part and his hands unfolded to trace along her jawline.  His fingers tilted her chin up before settling along the column of her neck, pinning her so that her eyes would meet his.  “I think it is _you_ who does not see things.” 

Rey tried to protest, but could only eke out a hushed _“Ben…”_ before his lips hovered over hers.  He would not claim her yet, and his warm breath teased against her skin.  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but watch his mouth whisper and his eyes disappear under thick eyelashes as they roamed over her lips, her neck, and down.

“You don’t see how the eyes follow _you_ as well,” he murmured.  “I see it.  I see how those fools think they can have you, but they wouldn’t dare try.  Not when you are the woman rumored to love _Kylo Ren.”_

Rey’s breath finally came, and it hitched.  She had not yet said those words to him.  Apparently, the whole base already saw it.  They knew the truth. 

“Still, I see it in their thoughts.  I see them thinking of you… It would drive me mad if you gave them the time of day.  But you don’t, because you don’t see it.”  Kylo gritted his teeth and his lips wandered to her ear.  “But the ones you _do_ see… the pilot who adores you, and the ex-trooper who wants more from you....  It takes all of my restraint to say and do nothing.  And worse, you love them, too.”

Again, Rey wanted to protest and chastise him for speaking ill of her friends, but Kylo persisted.  “You have more than just me, Rey.  But all _I_ have is _you._ And you tell me that you cannot see that you are all that I want?”

Rey had enough.  Fisting her hands in Kylo’s tunic, she pushed him away from her ear so that she could look into his eyes.  She wanted to tell him that he had nothing to worry about, that he was ridiculous for having such doubts, but the words died on her tongue.  His doubts mirrored hers after all, and it was _her_ insecurity that led them to this conversation.  But Rey wasn’t about to regret having it – not with the way Kylo looked at her now, eyes dark with lust. 

He fell upon her before she could speak, one arm circling around her and crushing her to his chest while the other braced against the table.  Finally, his mouth claimed hers, and she wasted no time in parting her lips and leading his tongue to drink.  He stole her every last breath, tasted her every inch, and she could do nothing but hold on for dear life.  Her hands lost themselves in his hair and followed their curls to his jawline, her fingers digging beneath the fabric of his collar and searching for skin or a pulse or an opening… she did not know which.  All she knew was that he wasn’t close enough, and oh, how she needed him _close._

Their wants were the same and Rey’s touch against Kylo’s skin ignited an insatiable heat inside him.  Obliging her, he lost his jacket and pulled the tunic from his head first before making quick work of hers.  Nearly tearing away her chest binding with his impatience, he slowed himself by doing what he loved most: memorizing her skin with his lips.  His teeth grazed against her throat, he tasted the dip of her clavicle, and traced kisses down to the valley between her breasts.  The lower he went, the further back Rey leaned until she sprawled before him on the table, her chest heaving and her eyelashes heavy over needy eyes. 

Kylo’s fingers dipped below the hem of her pants and he worked them down, kissing at the peak of each hip bone and his tongue laving against the hollow of her bellybutton.  He adored the way her body curved beneath his hands, smoothing along the hard lines of her body honed by years of struggle and survival.  It pleased him to no end how slowly but surely, she was gaining a softness – her stomach no longer perpetually empty.  No one else would notice just by looking at her, but Kylo did.  Or rather, he _felt_ the difference in the swell of her breasts and the curve of her ass.  Even her thighs gained the slightest, most exquisite layer of fat, but it would not betray their strong, toned muscle.  They were as strong as ever, twining around his waist as she pulled him back up to meet her lips.  Her knees clenched tighter against his thighs, drawing him closer. 

Grimacing, Kylo couldn’t lose his pants quick enough, the strain of his erection aching.  She felt so ready where her apex ground against him, but Kylo had other plans.  If she doubted him, he would have to show her. 

“I’ll take what is mine,” he said, his voice rumbling just above a whisper.  “This…” This time, his mouth covered hers entirely, taking her for all she was, tasting as deeply as he could, and finishing with a bite to her bottom lip.  “And this…” His hand ran the length of her bicep, over her elbow, and down to her wrist.  Bringing her palm to his lips, he kissed the only hands he’d allow to touch him.  “And this…” He trailed kisses between her breasts, relishing the feel of her heartbeat pulsing a harried rhythm against his touch.  “ _Everything…”_ Rey whimpered at the press of his lips to the insides of her thighs, dangerously close to where she was alive with heat and want.  Her hips rocked of their own accord, inviting him deeper.  Kylo obliged, sliding the tip of his tongue along her slit.  A groan betrayed him as she shuddered, her nails digging deliciously into his shoulder blades.

His carnality had to be ebbed, or they’d both come undone.  After all, he had a point to prove.

“Now.  Show me what is yours.” 

Rey moaned in desperation when Kylo stopped.  Peeking through her eyelashes, her lust-clouded eyes met with his deep ones that barely contained the fire within them.  He was hovering over her again, his arms braced on either side of her body.  Lips parted and panting in want.  It took every ounce of restraint for him to not devour her… but Rey knew exactly what he wanted: her trust and her devotion.  He wanted to be _hers._ He wanted her to claim him; to _own_ him.  And she gladly would.

“This is mine,” Rey whispered, breathing against his lips but not quite taking them.  If he wouldn’t give her what she wanted, if she had to work for it, then she’d prove her _own_ point.  She grazed her teeth along his jugular and was grateful to feel his pulse racing as quickly as her own.  His heart…  “This is mine.”  Eliciting another, sudden groan from the unraveling man, Rey relocked her legs around his waist and clenched.  The feel of his need ground against her, and Rey could barely breathe.  “And _this_ is mine…”

It was all either of them could take.  Rey reeled backwards against his crushing weight, his desire taking rein.  The wind was knocked from her lungs, his chest pressing desperately against hers, but who needed to breathe anyway.  He’d take every last whisper, lost between their lips.  Smother each heartbeat beneath his grip at her throat, but she’d have given them to him either way.  And he did what he promised – with his free hand kneading into the soft flesh of her ass, he guided her up until the tip of him pushed inside of her, and he took what was his.

The pressure was blinding, sparking flashes of white light before Rey’s eyes.  She’d never grow used to him, she feared, holding on for dear life as he pressed deeper and deeper.  So full… _too_ full… He filled her to the hilt, both still and quaking at the same time beneath her hold in hopes she would adjust.  But she never did.  Kylo Ren tore her apart in every sense of the word.  And yet, he settled into the cracks and gave to her everything she’d been missing.  They would stay like that until they caught their breaths, drinking in the fulfillment neither realized they needed until they’d found each other. 

But Kylo had done his waiting.  Slowly, mercifully, he began to move.  Lifting his face from where it had buried into the crook of Rey’s neck, his forehead rested against hers.  When Rey could focus again, he reared back until he was nearly out, just to glide back in, again and again.  The room filled with the sounds of their sighs, escaping in time with each deep thrust.  It was his turn for his eyes to clamp shut, her tight, wet warmth maddening.  But Rey wouldn’t have it.  She’d had her doubts… but in his utter vulnerability, held fast between her legs, Rey could delve into his thoughts.  She could see _his_ doubts, and they were much more than he’d let on.  His thoughts betrayed his bravado.  He was scared to lose her.  He was scared she would forget what he’d become and look again to the past.  He was scared that she loved _too much_ – her friends, her surrogate family, _everyone_ – and that there wasn’t enough left for him.

And so, she couldn’t let him close his eyes.  Couldn’t let him get lost in the insecurity that brimmed beneath the surface.   “Look at me,” she whispered, and he obeyed.  “ _Keep your eyes on me_.”

Rey took his face into her hands and ran her thumb along the scar she’d given him.  She kissed its length, wishing she could take it back but knowing it had served in his atonement.  Even with it, Kylo Ren was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.  By the look in his eyes – the hard focus and the way they bore into her beneath the slight furrow of his brow – he thought the same of her.  Their connection was sending him over the edge.  His long thrusts shallowed and quickened in pace.  Rey arched, pressing her breasts against him and moaning as both of his hands trailed to her hips.  They clawed at each other, wanting in, beneath the skin.  Wanting to feel deeper and lose themselves in the fire blooming in their stomachs.  There was no abating her moans and his growls; there was no hiding.  They’d never hide again and the base – the _galaxy –_ would see them for what they were.  Two halves of the same whole.

Rey shattered around him, her scream drowned by the clamping of his mouth over hers.  She was spiraling, her core bursting into flames as she climaxed.  With arms like vices, Kylo lifted her away from the table and held her aloft.  He came, spilling every ounce of his love and his lust into her.  Neither knew how long they stayed like that, supported by nothing but each other and parting their lips just enough for air.  For all they cared, they’d never move. 

It took the last of Kylo’s strength to sit along the edge of the map table.  He wasn’t ready to let Rey down, despite the sway in his step and the tiredness in his spent muscles.  Reach for her tunic, he wrapped it around her the best he could.  Just in case.  He was suddenly very aware that unwanted and uninvited eyes could see what was his. 

To his relief, when he followed the bond that connected them – the string that entwined their fates – he found Rey thinking the same thing.  There, in their most vulnerable and exposed moments, he was hers and _only_ hers.  After a lifetime of having nothing, Rey finally had _something_ – and she would not let it go, let alone share it.

“I love you.”  In her eyes, Kylo saw that she meant it. 

Stealing the lightest of kisses, he whispered, “I know.”

 


End file.
